What We Lost

I haven’t slept in months. Well, that’s not entirely true. I sleep on and off. Restless. Going through the motions rather than actually trying to relax. I wake at odd times. The curse of being a light sleeper. Everything is an alarm clock. The night carries with it the weight of our hubris. Sometimes it’s loud. Crying fills the air like a discordant lullaby. An occasional scream pierces the darkness. A broken reminder of what was lost. Sometimes it’s so empty I can’t breathe. I remember the first days. There was so much crying. So much screaming. So much pain. It didn’t make sense. Like it wasn’t real. I thought they were weak. Undisciplined. Childish.

Jean had to explain it to me. Told me all about what was lost in those early days. We all paid a price. Everyone lost a piece of themselves. Some of us lost— Cans rattle in the distance. Sounds like the traps did their job. I hate this part. I grab my walking stick, careful not to break the tip, and head outside. Metal scrapes against wood, giving off that familiar ring. Jean is carving again. Trying to bring back some of the old world.

“How’s it coming along?” My voice sounds hollower than it should.

“I don’t know. It all feels the same. Like wood I can’t—”

“Gentle, babe. Let the feeling guide you.” I do my best to sound confident.

“Right… are you going to check the traps?”

“I was actually thinking you should go.”

I can hear her jacket ruffle. She wasn’t expecting that.

“So, we’re starving today?”

I exhale sharply. “You need to learn. We can’t keep doing this. Having this same argument.”

“I’m trying.” Her voice cracks and her breath is shaky. Shit. How many times have we done this now?

“You’re not broken.” My hands squeeze the wood so tight I can feel my own pulse.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what!? Tell the truth?”

“You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand! Really?” My teeth grind together as I wait for the reply.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But you… you’re being unfair.” Her voice wavers but she isn’t backing down.

I hate that she is right. That something that was mine now needs to be given back. What I earned through years of pain I now have to let everyone else claim. Where was my grace? My support? Was all of it just a joke?

“I know.”

“You’re mad.”

“Not at you. Just… I’ll go check the traps.” I turn and walk away before I say something I’ll regret.

My hand tightens around the stick as I walk. The familiar clicks ring out as I make my way down the path. Wind shakes the leaves above. It sounds like falling static. I breathe in as the chill of the morning hits me. Summer had come and gone in a flash. Hard to believe just five months ago I was living in upper middle-class comfort. Crazy how a few months can make you feel like you’re living in a separate timeline.

Whimpering snaps my attention from the haze of my daydream. Bile rises in my throat. Is there a way to get used to this? I aim the stick. Commit. I have to commit. My wooden spear pierces flesh, the tip stabbing into the dirt. There was almost no resistance. Good. I didn’t hit bone. Silence fills the air, and I can smell iron.

My footsteps thump against the gravel as I make my way back. Everything feels heavy. I’m probably just tired, but I can’t shake the feeling. I want the world back the way it was. When I was hidden. I want her back the way she was. She was strong and so independent. It felt like freedom. Not. Whatever the hell this is now.

I start as her hands wrap around me. My body leans into the embrace before I have time to think.

“Jean?” My voice comes out a whisper.

“I want to try. Please.” Firm. No room for debate. She grabs the rabbit from my belt.

“At least let me help,” I say, following her inside.

“…okay. Yeah. That would be good.”

I clean the table and set down the cutting boards. Behind me Jean approaches with the rabbit. Her steps are uneven. She pauses for a beat before she reaches the table. Only a slight hesitation. She’s serious this time. A dull thud tells me the rabbit has been placed. I hand her my knife, still in its sheath. My hand brushes against hers and I feel the ridges on her hand before she pulls away.

Leather squeaks in her hands as she pops the strap on the knife. Metal sings as the blade is pulled free.

“You sure?”

Her breathing is rapid. “I can do this.”

-

The fire crackles and pops. Smells of spices and cooked meat fill the air. I hug Jean from behind. Her body tenses before leaning in.

“I’m proud of you,” I whisper.

“I nearly ruined our dinner.” Her tone is flat.

“Yeah, but it worked out. You did your best.”

We stay in the embrace. It’s the longest we’ve held each other in weeks. She still smells like flowers. Even after all this. Lilacs and junipers. I breathe deep and for a moment it’s like the world didn’t end. We are sitting on the couch eating takeout. The Wizard of Oz plays in the background. The first movie we watched together.

Her hands wrap around mine. “You know what I miss?”

“What?”

“The stars.” Her head rests against my shoulder. “It’s weird, I never looked at the sky before. Now it’s one of those things that just plays on repeat.”

I feel it in my chest. The weight. I can’t relate. Lights, colors, sparkle. Those are all abstractions to me. To her? I imagine it’s like the world without hearing. I shudder at the thought.

Jean pushes away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining. I know you never—”

“It’s fine. I don’t understand… but I can try to listen.”

Jean sniffs and stumbles backward. “Oh no, is the meat burning?”

I laugh as I reach out for her. “It’s fine. It’s directly over the fire so the oils are burning as they drip. Trust me, you’d know if we overdid it.”

I pull her into me and then guide her hand towards the fire.

“What are you—”

“There. Feel the heat? How it takes about three seconds to feel it?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s the temperature. At this distance from the fire, it will take about fifteen minutes to cook through.”

“Your world is almost mystical to me, Liv. When I used to cook, it never once occurred to me to use my hand to feel for the right temperature. I feel so stupid sometimes because your solutions are so… simple. And it’s like my brain trying to figure out how to speak another language.”

“You know I didn’t learn this overnight, right? Sometimes I even forget that. I lived with this my whole life. It’s been five months for you… Shit, I’ve been a real bitch, haven’t I?”

“Well…”

I gently punch her arm. “Rude!”

She is laughing now. The first real laugh I’ve heard in a long time. Before I can react, her lips are against mine. Soft but possessive. I can feel her hands grip my hair as she pulls me close. My body presses up against hers. The warmth feels like home.

I kiss her back. My hands roam over the curves of her body. I missed this. Missed feeling like I was part of her world. Not the keeper of it. She breathes heavily as the kiss ends. I can hear both our hearts. Like tiny drummers out of sync. Her breath hitches and I hear a sob. I pull back immediately.

“Shit, did I hurt you?”

“No. I… I can’t remember your smile. Liv… I can’t remember…”

“Hey! Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” My hands wrap around her trembling form. I breathe out slowly. It always comes back at the worst moments. She can’t see my face like it’s the worst experience that can happen to her. It shouldn’t make me angry, but it does. Like my world is somehow wrong.

I can feel her pull into herself. It’s going to be a long night.

“Do you need some water?”

She doesn’t answer. I grit my teeth and check on the meat. I smell it already. That’s what happens when you don’t pay attention. I collect the meat on a wooden plate and set it down. The bang on the table makes Jean jump.

“Now it’s burnt,” I remark as I walk back outside.

-

I return a few minutes later. The meat is still on the table. Cans remain unopened, plates and bowls are still out. A perfect set table with no one coming to use it. Jean hadn’t moved. I can hear her breathing in the exact same spot.

“Why do you come back? It’s clear you are fed up with me.” Her voice echoes off the walls. She isn’t facing me.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Say the truth?”

“Truth! You want the truth. You have nightmares over something I have lived with my whole life! Do you have any idea what it feels like for me? I spent my whole life being an outcast because I couldn’t see and now you sit here and act like being blind is a curse. Like it’s a fucking weakness! I’m not weak, Jean! I’m not fucking broken!”

The gravel shifts as she backs away. She is facing me now. “I… I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean it!” I toss my stick at the wall. It clatters to the floor. The echoes make it sound like I somehow threw it in all directions. My breathing is ragged. The pressure in my chest feels like it’s going to consume me. Is that—? There’s wetness on my cheeks. The dam is finally breaking.

Her footsteps are uneven but urgent. Suddenly her hands are around me. My body jerks on instinct before my legs finally give out. I’m being held. Five months and finally…

“Liv… why didn’t you tell me?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I bury my face in her chest and for the first time since my parents died, I cry.

I don’t know how much time has passed. All I know is she stayed. The whole time she stayed. She didn’t speak a word. Didn’t try to defend. She just stayed. My body tenses. I’m still shaking but much less than before. Every breath feels like it’s tightening a corset. She shouldn’t be this kind to me. Not after…

“You’re warm.” My voice is shaky and raw.

“I do my best.”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Then don’t say anything.” She breathes deeply. “I need to say something though.” She pulls back from the embrace.

I attempt to swallow despite how dry my mouth feels.

“I forget what it was like for you before…” She clears her throat. “You were always so capable, I never really thought about it. When everything happened, it devastated me. My whole world was gone. Overnight. I’ve never been helpless before, Liv…”

“I—”

“Let me finish.” Her voice is firm.

“It’s been so easy for me to slip into my own world. My own fear. It’s so hard, Liv. I know you don’t want to hear it, but God it’s so hard.” She takes a deep breath.

“I was selfish. I didn’t stop to see you… That doesn’t mean you were not cruel to me at times. It just means that I am owning my part.” She shifts closer. I can feel her body heat against me. “You’ve had to be my rock. You don’t need to be strong anymore. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her hand finds mine. She holds it tight. Like she is scared I’ll disappear if she lets go.

“Thank you.” My fingers interlock with hers. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for yelling.”

She hugs me and I lean into her. “I’m gonna have to crawl around to find that stupid stick.”

Jean laughs but doesn’t pull away.

“I’m not leaving either. I love you, Jean.”

“I love you too, Livey.”